Knights of a feather
by Evolution In The Dark
Summary: Years pass and Darkwing Duck is still searching for his long lost daughter. Old friendships are reformed and even an old foe offers to help.


**Disclosure: **I don't own Darkwing Duck or any of the characters. I'm just a simple fan writing a story with the characters, please don't sue.

**Writer's note: **This story is a bit of nostalgia for me, I loved Disney Afternoon when I was younger, I freakin' loved Darkwing Duck. Although I always thought Disney could've done so much more with the characters, and since they didn't, and probably never will…I will try.

**Warning: **May not be for kids, the chapter contains curse words, blood, death, and more. No sex or drugs…no, no, this chapter is clean from at least that.

**Chapter One: Knights of a feather**

Days have passed, weeks have passed, years…have passed. I, Darkwing Duck am here once again…alone. I always wanted to do things my own way, to be recognized without being shadowed by others, to be awarded and praised as the best lone crime fighter. Now that I have my wish, I don't want it anymore, I don't want to be alone, the fight is just too great, and I'm failing.

I was once someone's rival…now he's on life support, I was once someone's best friend…now he's gone, I was once someone's lover…now she left me, and most importantly, I was once someone's father…but now she could be dead or worse.

There were so many others who wanted a chance to make something of themselves, so many who just wanted a taste of knowing that they could do something right, so many who have fought beside me in the name of justice. But what did I do ?…I allowed anger, frustration, and selfishness to form a deadly beast called envy; and because of my envy, people were hurt or killed, and the remainder just left…including my daughter, Gosalyn.

Gosalyn was a special little girl. I was slightly glad that she wasn't into playing tea party or fashion things with dolls, I was glad to share a play of baseball or soccer with her. She wanted to be a crime fighter, but all I did was crush her dream.

Time has passed since Gosalyn and I met, she was 9 at the time, and I was younger. Now, Gosalyn is 14, and because of me, she ran away. Two years ago, she was trying to tell me something important, something about a clue she found at the crime scene, but because it was her discovery and not mine, Negaduck escaped and killed someone, and that someone happened to be Gosalyn's best friend, Honker.

I attended Honker's funeral, not as the dashing failure of a hero, but as Drake Mallard, and that was heartless. After that, Launchpad packed his things and returned to Duckberg. I could tell he wanted to say something, to call me a bastard, and I would've deserved it, but he just gave me a mean look with tears in his eyes, and left.

Morgana, my mysterious love, although I would never admit how much I loved her, I should have. Of course I would openly call her a friend, and I liked to say that Morgana and I where dating, and sure, I told her that I liked her, but love…that I could never say. She wanted to take our relationship to the next level, but for me, that would mean sharing, and that was something I didn't want to do, so she returned to the Underworld, and I never heard from her since.

Now that I am alone, the city of St. Canard looks to me as a monster, and not as the hero I so craved to be.

I stand in my hideout inside the top of St. Canard bridge, and ponder about the whereabouts of my daughter, Gosalyn. It's been two years, two years since I couldn't find her. I know she didn't runaway with Launchpad, he would've told me that she was with him. I know she's not with Morgana, she would've told me about it. And I know she's not with anyone else, they would've said something.

I leave the hideout and my Darkwing identity to think, and as I thought, I went to visit a friend, my rival, Fenton Crackshell, otherwise known to the public as Gizmoduck.

Fenton laid on the Intensive Care Unit bed of St. Canard General Hospital. He's breathing and suffering with tubes, I.V's, and monitors of the Life Support System. Fenton's mother wanted to him return to Duckberg, and even his former employer Mr. McDuck offered to pay for transport, but Fenton's body was much too sensitive to leave St. Canard.

"_Fenton…" _I whispered to him. _"Fenton, it's me, Drake."_

Our identities have been revealed to each other during a battle in space many years ago. Gizmoduck and I were on the International Space Station to Stop Negaduck and Steelbeak from using satellite beams to threaten St. Canard. Fenton, as Gizmoduck suffered from lack of oxygen at one point during our mission. I had to quickly remove his suit and helmet to perform C.P.R., and as I became successful at reviving him, he fainted. I looked inside his wallet for an I.D. card; this act wasn't to be nosey or for me to use as blackmail, but If something happened to him, I might need to contact a family member…if he had any. Fenton learned my identity because I simply showed him. I knew his, so it wouldn't be right if didn't know mine.

"Fenton…" I called again, this time a little louder so he could hear me. "It's me, Drake. I'm here."

The Doctor walked into the room. "Ah, Mr. Mallard, nice to see you again."

"Is Fenton progressing ?"

The Doctor looked to his clip board. "Mr. Crackshell has opened his eyes and attempted speech a few days ago. Record shows that he is strong enough for brain and spinal surgery, which has been scheduled for this afternoon."

"Will he ever regain normal function ?"

The Doctor looked to me. "With the success of this surgery and a few months of physical therapy, Mr. Crackshell will be able to anything." then he left.

For months I have visited Fenton. I do so at least three days a week; Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday. I visit to let him know that I am here, and to tell him things I can't seem to tell others, just like one would do at a confessional.

I placed my hand in his and began to cry. "I still haven't found Gosalyn, Fenton…" tears shed down my face and soaked the collar to my shirt. _"Come on, please…I need your help, I need you to be Gizmoduck to help me find her."_ But he didn't speak, couldn't speak, but he did squeeze my hand. "I won't give up, not without a fight."

After that I returned to my hideout just to encounter the most gruesome thing…a small beak with blood on my desk. The beak is a small duck beak, not small like the ones found on a short adult duck, this beak is crisp in color and smooth in nature, this beak belonged to a child…

I looked around the hideout…there was no note, no finger prints, no foot prints, no surveillance images, no nothing, just a beak that might belong to my daughter on my desk.

I contacted the police chief to inform him about this. The chief told me that he would inform the crime lab and to give the beak to them. He didn't seemed concerned, he acted as though he didn't care, the fact is he never cared, not like J.G. Hooter.

S.H.U.S.H was created because of me, and J.G. Hooter was the main man of police, law, and justice. He would give me the scoop on major criminal activity in St. Canard. But now, he's has a well earned retirement. I dropped the beak at the crime lab, and went to J.G. Hooter's house.

"Ah, Darkwing…" He smiled. "It's been a while, please come in."

"I wish that our meeting were under more pleasant circumstances, but -"

"I know, word has it that you just dropped off a young duck's beak at the crime lab."

I was surprised the old bird still stayed attuned. "You haven't lost your touch J.G."

"As long as I have breath, I can still crime fight in my own right. Now, how can I help you ?"

"It's a possible chance that beak may belong to my daughter, Gosalyn."

"Hmmm…" J.G. Hooter posed in thought. "Is that beak your only clue ?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps not. Who is the only feathered man we know who doesn't have natural beak ?"

I thought and thought, but only one came to mind. "Steelbeak." I said, then I thought about it. "Why would he ?… It doesn't make any since."

J.G. looked to me. "The act of villainy has no reason, and even if it did, it would still make no since. Perhaps, Steelbeak sent the beak to tease you."

"Steelbeak has never been that smooth to not leave impressions behind, so he must've sent another to deliver the beak. One who can't leave an impression, like The Liquidator."

J.G. raised a brow. "Oh…"

"If The Liquidator came into my hideout, impressions wouldn't be there because his structure is made entirely out of water, and the surveillance cameras wouldn't be able record him because his body is clear."

"I think you're on to something Darkwing," J.G. smiled then turned to his computer. "but let be sure The Liquidator is not contained….and nothing has been recorded, he has never been contained."

"That's what made The Liquidator such a great criminal, he can easily escape and merge with water, able to form as small drop of water or a large tsunami."

J.G. knew I was right, ever since we encountered The Liquidator, the police, the science lab, and even myself researched ways to contain him, but all attempts failed. "There hasn't been any other known signs of The Liquidator. If you accuse him of doing something that you can't prove, or he just hasn't done…He'll may attempt to once again drown St. Canard."

I knew that may be the case as well. "I know, and that's why I won't strike right away, I need more information."

J.G. gave me a communicator which looks like an ordinary watch. "Let's keep in contact with each other."

I was surprised that he still had the old thing. "You still hang with the old guys who worked for S.H.U.S.H., don't you ?"

"Faithful old friends, with new friends." J.G. smiled. "I'll inform you about the lab results as soon as I receive them."

"Thank you J.G." Then I was off.

My next destination is to Green Feather Pier, the nearby home of Neptunia, the most beautiful fish that ruled section 12 of the sea. Her beautiful colored fins and the way she swims throughout the water always had unique and addictive trance. Neptunia really didn't care for those who wondered the land, her sworn duty is to rule and defend the sea.

I dig in the special location of the sand to remove a seashell like horn, this horn is usually used to call Neptunia for an emergency, this was an emergency…to me. I blew the horn and moments later, she appeared, just as beautiful and colorful as ever.

Neptunia looked to my direction and narrowed her eyes in great hatred. "Oh it's you, Mr. Big shot. What the hell do you want ?"

I deserved that, after what I did to her. "I need your help."

"Humpf." She frowned heavily, I knew this wouldn't be easy. "So you need help all of a sudden. Why should I care to help you ?"

"You probably shouldn't care, but this isn't for me, It's for Gosalyn."

She raised a brow. "Gosalyn ?…"

"She's has been missing for two years, and now just tonight, I received only one clue…a young duck's beak with blood all over it. I just spoke with J.G., and the only suspects in mind thus far are Steelbeak and The Liquidator."

"And so what do you want from me ?"

"I would like you or anyone from your sea community to report anything strange or suspicious about The Liquidator, or even Steelbeak. Please Neptunia."

She frowned and gave me a such a stare. "For Gosalyn, and her only, I will help you, after this, you are to no longer call on the sea. Got it !"

"I understand."

With that, Neptunia returned to the depths of the sea, and I was once again, alone.

I returned to my home as Drake Mallard and sat in my study to gaze upon current criminal files. Megavolt is missing in action, Bushroot is still held inside his specially made environmental prison, and Quackerjack is out on probation.

Quackjack is Steelbeak's favorite, not only because of the numerous things to make him laugh, but because Quackerjack uses explosives, and Steelbeak always loved that.

I don't want to approach Quackerjack because he may alarm Steelbeak that I'm looking of him. I want to retrieve information very carefully. The only way for any criminal to speak the truth and not remember the event was through Morgana's spell.

I called Morgana on my Darkwing Duck cell phone…no answer.

My door bell rang and I went to answer…and there stood Launchpad.

"I didn't think you would return since our friendship was over."

Launchpad looked to me. "I never walked away from our friendship, just your bastard ways. I always forgave you…always. I was never one to hold a grudge."

"I'm glad Launchpad, you don't know how much you mean to me."

"I never knew." Launchpad soured, then looked to a picture of Gosalyn. "I should've returned as soon as you told me that she was missing, but I couldn't bare to look at another child death, or the possibility, but now I'm here. Is there something I can do for you right now ?"

"You just got here Launchpad, don't you want to rest ?"

"Nah…besides, I need to walk off this jetlag. Sitting in coach is a killer."

"If you could deliver this note to Morgana, that would be fine."

"When I'm done with that, I would like to work on The Thunderquack. I know it must be in great need of a tune up."

"In truth Launchpad, the whole damn thing needs construction. If it's ok with you, don't have it resemble me anymore, have the jet look like a normal jet."

"Ok D.W., but I'll still call it The Thunderquack because coming up with new creative names for jets is lagging."

"The name I'm fine with, it's the image I have a problem with. To have a motorcycle and a jet built to resemble me brings back too many bad memories and serves as a constant reminder of how much of an selfish asshole I was."

Launchpad understood and with that, he left.

"_Darkwing, Darkwing come in…" _The voice of J.G. Hooter was heard on my communicator.

"Darkwing here."

"_The lab results indicate the D.N.A. on the beak doesn't belong to Gosalyn, it belongs to Honker Muddlefoot."_

Honker, Gosalyn's best friend. "Honker's was buried two years ago."

"_The lab guys checked it and checked it twice, the blood and the beak belong to Honker Muddlefoot. And there's more…you were right to suspect Steelbeak, half of his fingerprint was found on the very edge of the beak."_

"What we need is a whole fingerprint for a positive ID, but Steelbeak is still on my mind. Any word on The Liquidator ?"

"_Nothing yet, but I'll keep you posted."_

"Roger."

I dressed myself as Darkwing Duck and went to St. Canard Graveyard, to the burial site of Honker Muddlefoot. The gravesite had been tampered with, dirt scattered everywhere, the headstone was slightly sifted to one side, and when a placed a hand inside the gravesite, I found rather hollow-

"Empty." A female voice spoke.

I turned around to see my former lover, Morgana McCawber. She stood in the midnight mist just as dark, mysterious, and beautiful as ever. She wore one of many of her crimson red dresses, a low 'V' neck collar with the dress tightly caressing every sexy curve. Her hair black with a slight touch of grey, her lips just as red like a berry, the most emerald cum hitter eyes ever placed on a woman.

Morgana walked, or rather floated toward Honker's gravesite "When the rest of a soul is interrupted, it usually because something or someone is tampering with the body." she looked to me. "I received your message."

I looked to her, ah…I swear, if it wasn't for the shame of it, I would melt right then and there.

"I heard about the beak." She spoke.

"Honker Muddlefoot has a different beak, not a duck beak. How could -"

"Cosmetic Surgery," She spoke. "It's all the rage these days. The surgeons are able to take a beak, and construct it into the desired shape, just like they do onto many celebrities."

"But why Honker, why…?"

"Perhaps it was a way to throw you off." She spoke. "Whoever is responsible, wanted you to think for Gosalyn to be dead."

I turned to her. "Morgana please help me, help me not only find Gosalyn, but return Honker to his resting place."

"I will."

"_Darkwing, come in…" _The voice of J.G. spoke through my communicator.

"Darkwing here."

"_I just received report about The Liquidator from the Neptunian Government. Liquidator was seen by the shore of Lake Tail Hospital a few weeks ago."_

"Lake Tail Hospital…Lake Tail…that place sounds familiar."

"_It served as a small branch community hospital, a hospital closed by its known history of patient neglect and malpractice." _

I looked to Morgana. "How long does it take for a surgeon to construct a beak ?"

"What I say is based upon celebrity articles, but I read it takes 3 to 5 hours depending on the nature of the original beak and how the new likeness to be formed."

Then I spoke to J.G. "I'm going to investigate Lake Tail Hospital, please inform Launchpad to standby."

"_Roger."_

"I sent Eeeck and Squeak, my flying pets to survey the area before our arrival." Morgana spoke. "I hope that was alright ?"

"That's just fine."

As Morgana and I approached the abandoned hospital, her flying pets Eeeck and Squeak whispered to her the language of the dead I could never intrepid. She looked to me. "There's a surgical room where they found white feathers and blood."

"Did they happen to find Honker's body ?"

The flying pet whisper to her. "Not the body, just a pair of thick glasses cracked on the floor."

"Christ."

"_Darkwing…come in." _J.G. called on the communicator.

"I'm here."

"_What's the situation ?" _

"I'm with Morgana, and her pets surveyed the hospital and found a pair of thick glasses, the kind Honker Muddlefoot would wear. I'm going inside the hospital to confirm that those glasses belonged to him."

"_Launchpad is ready on standby, report anything you find." _

"Roger."

Morgana and I entered the hospital. The hospital like any long time abandoned building is dark, rustic, cold, and damp. This type of strange atmosphere is normal for Morgana, she craves things of the night the same as I, only I was more…conservative about those things, or was I ?

We reached the surgical area where Eeeck and Squeak discovered the glasses. There was blood all over the surgical table and some drippings on the floor, and there were the glasses. The glasses were thick, just like Honkers glasses, and made of black, but theses weren't his glasses…Honker had custom made prescription glasses, these glasses were just plain thick reading glasses that anyone could find at a Drugstore.

"Dammit." I looked to my communicator. "J.G., can you read ?"

"_Yes Darkwing, go ahead." _

"The glasses don't belong to Honker Muddlefoot. Send the lab boys to ID this blood, and tell Launchpad to stand down, I need time to regroup."

"_Roger."_

"I'm sorry Dark." Morgana spoke.

"They're fuckin' with me Morgana. They have my little girl."

**Please read and review. Should I continue this story or just drop it all together ?***


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